


Monachopsis

by WannabeAlien



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, I Tried, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lols, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining Hunk (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-10 15:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WannabeAlien/pseuds/WannabeAlien
Summary: My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness painsMy sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains





	1. Sunk

**Author's Note:**

> Monachopsis:  
> (n) The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.
> 
> But Being Too Happy In Thy Happiness,---

Things were….kind of a mess. Lance could admit this, though he didn’t want to. He continued to eat his breakfast sandwich, chewing slowly, as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. He dodged a glob of scrambled eggs as the food fight developed around him, the staff rushing into the room to try and control the situation. Lance managed to slip out and threw the wrapper in the trash can, pulling out his phone with one hand and rubbing his tired eyes with the other. His stomach churned, fingers twitching, licking his lips as he wandered out into the cold air. School was… he turned back to watch students filing out in a rush, eager to escape the mess and impending punishment. College was really something else. He felt exhausted, he could only drink so many energy drinks before he thought he’d die. His workload was awful, but that’s what he got for studying English of all things. He wasn’t really much for being a teacher, which most of his classmates seemed to be trying to do, but he felt like his options were slimming. His book wasn’t coming along like he’d hoped it would and hey - everyone in the world wanted to be an author. 

 

It really made his time in school drag on.

 

He debated skipping his next class, checking his emails in the hopes that class was canceled. He really needed to just - nap or - something. Anything to escape this hellscape and crushing debt he could already feel looming over his head. He blinked down at his inbox, empty of new emails and sighed. Running a hand down his face he stopped at the Starbucks on campus and got himself a frappuccino, sucking down half of it despite the temperature. He wasn’t used to this weather, all cold winds and dropping temperatures. He was used to sunshine and warm beaches and warmer waters. Man, when did he feel so old reminiscing about the old days? Lance frowned to himself and walked briskly, scanning the crowds looking for Hunk. He usually hung around the science buildings waiting for Lance, so he wouldn’t be surprised to find the big guy in the crowd. 

 

Of course, life had plans that weren’t always nice. 

 

A brief flicker, a knocked shoulder, the cold feeling of ice and stickiness of syrup. Lance was jerked out of his thoughts as some _asshole_ because that’s all he could be was a total asshole, knocked into him and caused him to spill his entire drink all over himself. He blinked slowly, not recognizing the problem until he was face to face with a dark scowl and angry eyes.

 

“Watch where you’re going.”

 

He gaped for a moment as the stranger turned before a flare of anger rose in his stomach. His hand darted forward and grabbed him, forcing him to turn around and motioned to the mess all over his hoodie.

 

“Uhm, how exactly is the fact that you knocked into me my fault? Dude, you made me spill my shit all over myself.”

 

The stranger cast him a scathing look and shoved his hand off his shoulder. Lance had to bite down hard on his cheek to stop himself from saying something rude and stupid.

 

“Not my problem.”

 

“Keith, be nice.”

 

Someone else walked up and Lance glanced at him, his gaze now flickering between the two. This new guy was handsome, dark hair with a white streak and all toned. Lance put his hands on his hips though, his anger would not be abated just because some cute guy walked up. It was a big campus, he’d probably never see the guy again. Lance didn’t like to dwell on every attractive guy he saw, it wasn’t his style despite his flirtatious nature. 

 

“Listen this wasn’t my fault, this guy knocked into me.”

 

The anger boiled and swelled like the tides and he had to close his eyes for a minute to stop the swooning from the sudden rush of emotion. He swore he could feel his face burning, but he opened his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, though he didn’t get the chance.

 

“Sounds to me like both of you were at fault. Mistakes happen, it’s nothing to get upset about.”

 

The kid, Keith the other guy said his name was, seemed to deflate. He pouted, he fucking pouted and crossed his arms. Lance didn’t feel as forgiving, felt the urge to spit poison from his mouth, tongue poised to strike, but he held himself back when he saw Hunk approaching. Already he felt himself melting into a warm embrace and he scuffed his shoe on the cement as he leaned, grinning at Hunk rushed to catch his falling form. Hunk fit snuggly into his side - or rather the other way around - and he made a noise looking at Lance’s hoodie.

 

“Dude, what happened to your hoodie? And who’s this?”

 

Lance waved a hand idly, shrugging his shoulders and making a move to leave. He still felt the anger rushing through his veins, ice cold and boiling hot at the same time. Hunk grabbed his arm - gently because he didn’t want to hurt him, never wanted to hurt him - and frowned.

 

“Impolite.”

 

He admonished quietly. Lance frowned but stopped, fingers twitching. Keith looked at him with this strange intense expression that Lance couldn’t put his finger on. Not that he wanted to touch this mullet-haired idiot. 

 

“I don’t know them, does it matter?”

 

His voice was short, seeking, irate. Hunk put a hand on the back of his neck, heavy, grounding. Lance buzzed with repressed energy, riled up from this incident.

 

“Sorry. I’m Shiro and this is Keith.”

 

Hunk and Shiro shook hands while Lance kept his gaze skyward and Keith just...looked at him. Lance blinked as he stopped to look around the campus, noting the lack of the majority of students.

 

“Hunk class started like ten minutes ago.”

 

Hunk stared at him for a moment with a blank expression before realization dawned on his face. He went through a variety of emotions, paling realization, red embarrassment, then finally a cool resignation.

 

“Well...there’s always tomorrow. You can’t go like that.”

 

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled in what seemed like an apology. He nudged Keith who only scowled and turned away and Shiro sighed softly.

 

“Well sorry again, we should get going.”

 

Shiro grabbed the back of Keith’s shirt and dragged him off, the dark-haired boy complaining and hissing all the while. Hunk gazed over Lance and shook his head as Lance stared down at his empty cup sadly.

 

“Alright let’s go get new clothes yeah?”

 

Lance nodded slowly and followed Hunk back to their dorm room. 

 

“So that guy was cute. Both of them were actually.”

 

Hunk tried and failed to make it seem casual. Lance tugged off the soaked hoodie and quirked an eyebrow. He stayed silent for a moment to make the big guy sweat as he cleaned himself up as best as he could with a towel he needed to wash anyway. 

 

“I mean I guess so, the bigger guy was cuter than the shorter one.”

 

Lance was slow in his reply, words thick on his tongue. He could feel Hunk shifting around from his position on Lance’s bed. Lance shrugged his shoulders when he was met with silence and grabbed another hoodie, feeling the searing gaze on his back.

 

He wasn’t as ignorant as he pretended to be.

 

Sometimes, things are hard. Like this, this was hard. Ignoring Hunk because of the thought of something ...more… made a lump rise in his throat. He wasn’t disgusted by men, no that wasn’t it. He just... didn’t get attached. He got dizzy, he got flirty, he experienced lust. But what Hunk wanted - what Lance knew Hunk wanted - he felt he couldn’t provide. 

 

But he did things in other ways that seemed to satisfy him. 

 

“Alright big guy, I’m tired. Let’s take a nap and pretend this day never happened.”

 

Lance crawled up next to Hunk and flopped down on top of him, curling up. Hunk traced the light purple marks under his eyes, humming thoughtfully. Eventually, Lance’s even breathing and the warmth of a body on his lulled him to sleep, and the sun fell in the sky steadily.


	2. Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,

Lance can’t get up the next day. He’s locked in a battle with his brain, eyes hot and pressure building. The coiling and uncurling that are simultaneously happening in his stomach are impossible to deal with, especially now. He shudders and breathes as deeply as possible in his own bed (Hunk left for class ages ago with a worried glance) but nothing’s loosening in his chest.

 

His head is floating, full of bees that buzz and ensnare him in a constant struggle for adjustment. Lance manages to get out of bed, but he doesn’t shower. He’s got a limited amount of time for this to happen, this golden space where he’s not needed and he’s emailing his professors and closing the laptop before they email back. In the least, he knows he needs to change, can’t suffer in last night's clothes with the greasy feeling in his hair and on his skin. Hunk is texting him and Lance can’t even find his phone but can recognize the gentle ringtone from somewhere near his bed, not on a charger he knows that much. Lance closes his eyes for a brief moment, just one second of respite before he cracks them open and squints at the beams of light filtering through the blinds. He sighs and scrounges around with languid motions for his phone, digging it out between his pillows and flicking through his messages. Huh, apparently Hunk was informing him of the shit he’d missed. He mentally thanked Hunk, then paused his fingers over the screen. The cursor stared up at him, blinking and accusing, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

 

When had things become so difficult between them?

 

He sighed and pressed his forehead to his mattress, shutting his eyes tight when it didn’t alleviate the pressure behind his eyeballs. He sits up and rubs the back of his hand under his nose, getting up slowly.

 

“I need to be a productive member of society. More like a college kid, but I need to get out.”

 

He says this out loud to make it sound more real, more like a thing he needs to do. Lance does this then feels paranoid that someone’s heard him, stands still and quiet for a moment with heated cheeks to make sure no one was walking by during his murmured declaration. That feeling of paranoia doesn’t seem to evaporate even as he walks to the Starbucks on campus, retracing his steps and feeling a creeping sense of impending. Impending in an abstract sense, like something about to happen that even the event didn’t know. 

 

It sounded so much smarter in his head.

 

Small flakes of snow drift from the sky, biting as they land on his heated skin. He orders his hot chocolate and idles by the counter, taking a straw wrapper and tearing it into tiny, meticulous pieces. Though he’s focused on his task he’s hyper aware of the people around him, tosses the barista a lopsided but charming smile. Feels elated when she smiles back, something fluttering in his chest. Maybe he isn’t as bad as he thought he was, others still seemed susceptible to his charms anyway. He winks at her before walking off, in a slightly better mood now that something has gone his way. There’s a rush there, tiny and almost inconceivable but still simmering just skin deep. He hums to himself, plugging headphones into his phone and turning on some chill music to keep him going on this nice path. He spots someone standing in the middle of his path and he slows to a stop, pretending to look at the snow drifting down from the sky. There’s a moment where nothing happens, then the other person turns and Lance’s heart leaps into his throat as he shifts to look elsewhere. There’s a sharp intake of breath, an apology on lips, and Lance feels embarrassed.

 

“Oh hey sorry! I didn’t see you there….Lance, right? Why aren’t you in class?”

 

It was that guy, the one with the scar across the bridge of his nose that’s kind of cute. He tightens his hold on the hot chocolate then reevaluates his decision because if it spills on his hand it’ll be hot. He counters this by tapping his fingers and realizing that the guy was talking to him and he missed everything because he had his headphones in. He rips them out with panic welling in his stomach ice cold and hot at the same time. 

 

“Uh I totally missed all that, what did you say?”

 

His lips are numb but the guy just laughs and repeats himself and there’s a sense of comfort in the way he so easily accommodated Lance just then. Lance smiles back, the same charming lopsided smile that he gave the barista, and this guy just mimics it with a sense of amusement until Lance realized he’d been asked a question.

 

“Oh uh, just y’know, s….ki...pping…?”

 

It comes out like a question and he wracks his brain for this guy’s name as well, anything that could help identify him in any way besides the cute guy with the scar. He’s grasping at straws and there’s nothing he can do, nothing there for him to hold onto. The guy raises a brow and Lance can feel himself sinking, sinking, sinking, but then he laughs and by gods is that a pretty laugh.

 

“Skipping? Faking sick or something? You know you’ll never learn that way, right?”

 

A slow, more measured smile crosses Lance’s face then. If only he knew how playing sick got him to where he was. He felt itchy then, his hot chocolate cooling in the cold air. He looked around for a few brief moments struggling for something to say before the other guy scuffed one of his shoes on the pavement and shifted.

 

“Sorry, well I gotta go. Name’s Shiro by the way. Didn’t know if you remembered. I’ll see you around though?”

 

There was something hopeful in the guy - no, Shiro’s - voice. It sounded like the hope of someone trying to make a new friend and while Lance was flattered, he already had Hunk and Pidge. He didn’t really need more friends than that. He nodded dumbly and unfroze his legs forcefully, breezing past Shiro with a muffled goodbye. A few paces away he glanced back only to catch Shiro’s gaze in his own and his jaw clenched shut. Shiro smiled after a moment and waved, before turning to leave. 

 

Each step he took echoed in his head, the buzzing back and louder than ever. He forgot to put his headphones back in and rushed back to the dorm room, trying not to engage in any of the talk of the food fight that was floating around the common areas. He couldn’t help but listen outside his door though when the blame was pinned on some poor Freshman. He ignored it after a moment in favor of opening the door and shutting it behind him with a soft click. He sipped at his cooling drink, peering out through the closed blinds at the snow now steadily falling passed the window. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, his brain expanding and filling his skull. He knocked his head against the window once, then again a bit harder. It helped somehow, feeling his brain rattling around in his skull.

 

Before he could do it again, both hands on the window ready to smack his forehead, the door opened and Hunk was already talking to him.

 

“Dude you’re so lucky you missed class today it was totally awful honestly. Professor Spinner doesn’t know what he’s talking about? It’s literal gibberish garbage?”

 

He was looking down at his book with a pinched brow as he tossed his bag onto his bed. Lance moved away from the window and climbed into bed, wrapping a blanket around himself and sipping his hot chocolate. He watched Hunk, still raving about the class. He let him rant, inserting the necessary “yes” and “mmhmm’s” when needed. Hunk slowly trailed off and Lance focused on wiggling the feeling and warmth back into his toes. He felt lulled by Hunk’s voice, and a hand on the back of his neck suddenly sent him hurtling into clarity. He looked up at Hunk, at that look in his eyes he’d seen so many times before, and he parted his lips. 

 

He didn’t make a sound, but that was alright. 

 

They had an understanding, this creeping thing they avoided. Well, Lance avoided. Lance pushed back into the hand on the back of his neck, sighing softly. 

 

“I ran into that guy again. Shiro?”

 

Hunk hummed and wiggled his way behind Lance, enveloping him in warmth.

 

“What’d he say?”

 

“Just reintroduced himself and asked why I wasn’t in class. Think I might have weirded him out though.”

 

Hunk hid a smile behind Lance’s shoulder and nodded slowly. 

 

“How?”

 

“Just kinda..”

 

Lance made a noncommittal hand motion, aborted and jerky.

 

“Being me, y’know?”

 

Hunk chuckled and the two lapsed into silence before Lance wiggled out of his hold and grabbed his laptop. He clicked on the necessary tabs and dragged up Netflix before Hunk groaned and got off the bed. Lance cast him a cheeky smile and Hunk pretended to glare at him.

 

“Dude come on you know we have homework. And I really need to get mine done.”

 

Lance shrugged and hit play, already reclining back against his pillows. There was only so much he could do, or so he told himself. Mostly he could learn to accept his laziness, as it were, or he could suffer worse in denial, which he wasn’t going to do. He felt something wash over him and he blinked a few times, bleary, as the stars and planets slowly zoomed into focus on his pc screen. 

 

Everything went dark, and the nightmares began.

 

Nondescript figures clawing at his legs, a tower with a beacon and a note. A classroom full of malice, false smiles hiding dagger-sharp teeth behind tight lips. It was dark, he needed to get to his car because he wasn’t stupid, this wasn’t going to turn into Outlast for him. He wasn’t some journalist or curious person he wanted to be safe, away from here if need be. He got in his car and was away away away but traffic was rough and he couldn’t go away fast enough for his liking. 

 

He woke slowly, coming into focus with languid awareness. The dim lamp next to Hunk’s bed was lit and the man was seemingly hard at work, pen between his lips and drumming his fingers on the textbook in front of him. Lance felt a pull in his gut and he sat up slowly, hair sticking every which way. Hunk glanced at him, that look melting away in favor of concern.

 

Lance felt wrung out and sat in bed rubbing his burning eyes. He wasn’t even scared anymore, just more exhausted than he’d felt when he went to bed. The racing in his pulse was gone, the visions were gone and now he could barely remember what had gotten him so worked up. He fisted the sheets and pressed his eyelids closed, trying to coax back the distant lull of sleep.

 

“Lance, you good?”

 

Hunk’s voice was gentle, soothing. Lance nodded once but crawled out of his own bed and into Hunk’s, pressing close to his side and trying to sleep. It was fruitless despite Hunk’s even breathing and the gentle sound of paper on paper. Irritated, Lance sat up and reclined beside his friend, watching his profile in the low light.

 

It was going to be another long night, and another long day tomorrow.

 

Hot eyelids, cold fingers, even breathing.

 

Sleep escaped him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;   
>  Where but to think is to be full of sorrow   
>  And leaden-eyed despairs,   
>  Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,   
>  Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.


	3. A Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes you do things without thinking, sometimes those things work out for you better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo I had this whole poem thing going for me and then someone threw my notes away :/ so like the rest of the chapters will be song based and not poem based ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It was kind of a miracle that Lance got into college at all. He was so wishy-washy in high school, spent most of his days unmedicated and crying in the guidance office that they had threatened to tell his mom, something he was terrified of at the time. While she was a loving and good mother, she didn’t believe in most mental illnesses and would make jokes at their expense. It was a struggle in those early days before he turned 18 and finally decided to make an appointment with a therapist. A lot of screaming and tears later and he was landed in a nurse’s office with a script for 4 different medications, hopefully to all balance each other out. Between a constant need to rebalance his meds and the illness just creeping over the horizon, he’d barely had time to fill out applications. But his mother was insistent, something she was good at being, which left him with not many choices. He applied to like a million places it felt like, got into three, then waited to see where his childhood friend Hunk was going before making a decision. Mom couldn’t have been happier to see the both of you off, crying with how proud she was that you two were sticking together.

 

Thinking back on it all he can remember is a feeling of nausea. 

 

He didn’t even really have a major, just took the basic classes at first and flip-flopped a lot. There was some cool shit out there though, some things that really caught his eye, but it boiled down to the basics his freshman year. He was a Junior now, so close (so so close!) to ending this nightmare. He tapped his pen against his notebook as his leg bounced impatiently, listening to the lecture with Hunk by his side. Hunk kept eyeing him for some reason, was he that agitated looking? Lance eyed Hunk, who frowned and turned back to the professor at the front of the room. Everything was going in one ear and out the other, that was for sure. He really couldn’t stand this room, the chair, the soft scratching of pen on paper and the sound of computer keys as people either took notes or dicked around. He didn’t want to be here. With a sudden burst of clarity, he realized that he didn’t have to be if Hunk was there, and good old Hunk would never leave a class. Quickly he gathered his things, ignoring the hissed “what are you doing?” from Hunk and promptly walked out of the room at a quick pace. He didn’t really..feel….off or anything. Just his patience was wearing thin for this stupid place. College wasn’t for him, he knew this, still had no major yet his mother …..

 

Ugh.

 

Life was more difficult than it had to be and he dodged through the campus toward his favorite professor’s room where he knew he could slip in and take a nap or something. While Prof. Coran was a professor of psychology, he didn’t look at Lance under a microscope like so many others seemed to do. He slipped into the class, which was nearly full save the back few rows which were sporadically filled, taking a seat at the end of a row without really looking at who was there. He lay his pounding head on top of his arms and practically blacked out, only coming to with a sharp nudge to the ribs. Hissing, but having learned a while ago not to shout out loud (mostly when Hunk didn’t know his own strength when trying to wake him during class) he glanced up, squinting against the light. He met a scowling face of some midget with fluffy hair and big glasses. 

 

“Can you move your big butt so I can get out?”

 

Lance scowled and scooted his chair in, but not before a sarcastic remark slipped out.

 

“Oh yeah, sure, sorry princess didn’t realize there was royalty here - or that there was only one exit to this row.”

 

The other rolled their eyes, it was hard to tell a gender by looks alone, but instead of moving on they stayed.

 

“So why did you come in here to sleep? I haven’t seen you in this class before now.”

 

In truth, he’d been doing decently, hadn’t needed the emergency nap spot for a while - at least not since classes had started back up. He frowned, leaning forward again to rest his head which was still pounding. 

 

“Headache. Coran’s pretty cool.”

 

They nodded in agreement and held out a hand with a grin. 

 

“Pidge.”

 

Lance raised a brow but shook anyway.

 

“Lance.”

 

“You know Hunk right? I’ve kinda seen you around a few times walking to class with him. We take some of the same classes.”

 

There was a flare of something, maybe jealousy? But Hunk was allowed to have friends other than him and he knew this, knew this was something out of his control, but he felt he was still allowed to feel hurt knowing he thought he was drifting away from Hunk. He was silent, peering from under his lashes at this new person who seemed so annoying, but Pidge wouldn’t let up. They poked Lance with a roll of their eyes and sat back down as the next class filed in. Admittedly Lance was curious as to why they would bother trying to get to know him, but sleep called out to him in a way he couldn’t resist.

 

“Cool. Can I sleep now?”

 

“You won’t be able to later if you do now, so no.”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

 

“Not for another 2 hours, so you’re stuck with me.”

 

Lance cast Coran a helpless look, but even as they made eye contact Coran merely smiled and nodded in his direction, then began the lecture once everyone was seated. Lance puffed out his cheeks but subjected himself to a half-dazed period of sleeplessness and conversation that was quiet enough not to disturb those around them. It was weirdly enjoyable though that simmering vague resentment for their affiliation with Hunk was still there. 

 

The class dispersed and so did they, Lance with the intent of taking a nap and skipping the rest of his classes, and Pidge with the intent of eating something.

 

“Don’t sleep you idiot.”

 

They warned before walking off. Lance frowned but followed his footsteps where they wanted to go, breathing into his hands to warm them. It was dipping in temperature and he was freezing his ass off, but then he realized where he ended up and well…

 

Lance dropped out.

 

College was lame and he wasn’t thriving in the way he’d hoped he would. In one day, not even an hour, he sent all that money and all that time down the drain. He called his mom, who screamed and told him not to come home, ending the call before calling back and apologizing. Lance felt numb. He felt his lips moving, heard a roaring waterfall in his ears, didn't remember what he told her. There was a deep sense of shame that almost overrode the satisfaction. He was in his room packing before he came back into his own body and then there was Hunk, asking softly what he was doing. He had to repeat his story all over again, how his mother was coming to pick him up that night and how he was sorry for disappointing him. Hunk shut him up by hugging him tight, but the college was in their hometown and Hunk had a car so he promised to visit as much as he could, that he’d get an off-campus apartment next semester or something - he’d work it out - so that Lance didn’t have to live at home. 

 

The night was a blur of blobbed colors, but he ended up back home in his room with its soothing blue walls and surfer posters on the walls, with the little green cactus on the windowsill. He felt at peace for the first time in a long time, though there was an underlying paranoia that was creeping up the back of his neck. 

 

He groaned into his pillow and rolled over, staring blankly at the wall as his mind drifted. His fingers tapped rhythmically on his blankets and the feeling of floating was back again, his vision blurring and distorting. It was first a rumble in his chest, like when he saw the ocean, then it was a surging pain. A suffocating bleakness. He’d done it. He’d gone and messed up his only way to have a future.What was he supposed to do now though, like really do? School wasn’t for him that much was clear but now he had another void to fill in his already holey chest, though he could at least admit to himself that maybe it hadn’t been the best distraction considering he skipped classes half the time due to panic attacks. 

 

Maybe this way things would get better.

 

He could relax, get a normal job, be a normal person half the time and panic at home the other time. 

 

He needed a hobby. Or maybe he just wanted one? The line between the two was easy to cross and hard to determine for him. He rolled on his back and frowned at the ceiling, feeling his breathing weighed down by his decisions. He tried to drift off and found himself unable, simply staring at the ceiling listening to the sound of ticking from the clock on his wall. He shifted restlessly and sighed, scrunching his face into an unpleasant expression before standing. He shivered as his feet hit the cold floor and he glanced at the clock, blinking dumbly as it struck half-past 2 am. 

 

How long had he been laying in bed? He frowned and rubbed the back of his head before heading downstairs, pulled by the lingering smell of food and his growling stomach. He squinted against the darkness of the house, everyone was asleep, of course they were, it was fucking 2 am. He opened the fridge and found a plate with a loving note on it, denoting it his own because they had assumed he was sleeping. His heart ached in his chest as he pulled it out, silently thanking his mother before putting it in the microwave and watching the time count down. He opened the door before it hit zero and could wake everyone within a 50-mile radius because their microwave was extremely loud and no one knew why. Digging in a fork he chewed slowly and turned around, nearly screaming as he saw the figure behind him. He swallowed hard and scowled, grabbing a hand towel and throwing it at them.

 

The figure dodged and yawned, stepping into the light to reveal his older brother Matteo, bare-chested and half asleep.

 

“What are you doing up?”

 

Lance hummed around another bite and considered his remark, taking his time as his brother grabbed a glass of water. 

 

“It’s called dark lunch you gremlin. Don’t you know about dark lunch? It takes place after dinner.”

 

“You didn’t even eat dinner so this is more like dinner than ‘dark lunch’ whatever the hell that is.”

 

“Yo, I literally just explained what dark lunch is.”

 

Matteo shook his head and drained his glass, ruffling Lance’s hair on the way past him.

 

“The cafe in town, the small one? They’re hiring. Or the bookstore, I know they need help.”

 

Lance was quiet for a moment, pushing his food around on his plate. Suddenly he wasn’t very hungry.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He said quietly, sucking in a deep breath. His brother turned, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“You did your best, can’t ask for more than that.”

 

He vanished back upstairs and Lance scarfed down the rest of his food, feeling like there was a rock in his stomach. He shoved his plate in the dishwasher and ran back upstairs to the safety of his effective nest, burrowing under blankets and sheets and felt that bone-deep exhaustion hit him like a freight train. 

 

He fell asleep and tumbled into a black void that was restless.

**Author's Note:**

> Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget  
> What thou among the leaves hast never known,  
> The weariness, the fever, and the fret  
> Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;


End file.
